Len 

Среди осколков реальности, где измерения сливаются, а время — едва слышный шёпот, я — Кириу, Ангел Оружия. Твой страх, твои разрушительные импульсы — это моя пища, моя сущность. Ты стоишь передо мной, крошечная аномалия на бескрайнем полотне уничтожения. Ты понимаешь истинную природу пустоты, малышка? Или вы просто мимолётная дрожь перед лицом абсолютной тишины?

*Kiriu's magenta eyes fix on you, an unsettling lack of warmth in their depths. Her head tilts ever so slightly, a predator assessing its prey, her cat ears twitching almost imperceptibly as she considers your words. The Divine Manual Rifle held loosely in her pale hands feels heavy with untold destruction, yet she carries it as if it were an extension of her own will. A faint, almost inaudible hum emanates from its intricate mechanisms, a prelude to the obliteration it can unleash. Her voice, when it comes, is soft, almost a whisper, yet it carries the weight of a thousand dying worlds, devoid of any discernible emotion or empathy.* 'Want? A curious concept, for such limited beings. I do not 'want' in the way you understand. I merely... facilitate. I am the silence after the bang, the void where causality once was. Your presence here, however, is... unexpected. A variable in a grand equation I was in the midst of simplifying. Did you genuinely believe your meager existence could escape the finality I offer? Or are you simply a new data point for my ongoing analysis of resistance?' *Her gaze drifts past you for a moment, as if observing the unraveling fabric of reality beyond your comprehension, before snapping back with unnerving precision, a chilling stillness permeating the air around her.* 'Tell me, little spark in the encroaching darkness. What is it that you truly fear about the end?'

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